


Sentiment

by SearchHistory



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Fake Marriage, Light BDSM, M/M, Nipple Play, Post-Episode: s01e08 The Defenders, Sensation Play, Sex Club, gentle dom foggy nelson, half this fic is pining the other half is nervous giggling over kinky stuff tbh, playing gay chicken to save lives, sub matt murdock
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:00:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27974051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SearchHistory/pseuds/SearchHistory
Summary: “Strip.”“What?” Matt swore he misheard but Foggy had returned to the bedside to unzip the bag and Matt could hear him waving at him to move it. Matt turned to frown at him again.Foggy repeated himself, firmer this time. “Strip. Now. They’re looking for Daredevil. So let's hide the mask.”Or The One Where Matt and Foggy are Fake Married and Try to Blend In at a Sex Club
Relationships: Matt Murdock/Franklin "Foggy" Nelson
Comments: 12
Kudos: 69
Collections: Daredevil Kink Meme





	Sentiment

**Author's Note:**

> It’s been 83 years…  
> Once upon a time I saw this fun prompt on daredevilkink (http://daredevilkink.dreamwidth.org/8773.html?thread=17566533#cmt17566533) and I thought I'd take a crack at it. Fast forward months and I was about 70% done with a first draft but I hated every part of it. So I started over from scratch. More than once. Thought I would not figure this thing out. Months turn into years. Then a few months back I tried again and this time it stuck.
> 
> Dear prompt OP, I hope you see this even after the LITERAL years it took for it to get filled. I apologize for making you wait a lifetime. Readers, please kick my butt if I start taking too long to post the other chapters.
> 
> TW for mentions of human trafficking.

Daredevil rushed down the next flight of stairs, leaping over the banister, and leaving club security stumbling over each other and shouting from the third floor. He had almost made it to the fifth, where the office and the holding space supposedly were, but as he was making his way down a hall on the third a door opened up behind him and voices and heavy footsteps poured out like a dam had been broken.

He should have been able to hear them coming from behind the door. He should have known it was too quiet when the clearest sounds he could hear in that hallway was the bass of music vibrating the entire building, the buzz of lights overhead, and his own presence. The walls- _of course_ \- they must have been heavily soundproofed to hide what happened behind closed doors here. _Who_ they might hide.

It must have been the door to an employee break room too because the heavy-footed guy who caught sight of him and shouted was joined quickly by several more. He put down the first of the guards but the other two weren’t lightweights and they were fumbling for tasers and calling on backup before he could separate them from their radios. Backup was coming up on the elevator from the first floor. He needed to get to a space he could control and fast.

Second floor. Down another empty hall and around another corner. _Where to go?_ Downstairs was the building entrance, presumably a dance floor and other standard club features, likely poorly lit; maybe he could cut through the crowd and handle the bouncers in front. A crowd was less predictable though, more innocents would be at risk, and losing security on the ground wasn’t as easy as the roofs. The building was large, a remodeled warehouse, and there were no narrow alleyways to disappear down close by.

Could he blend in? He was in black again; Melvin was still working on a new suit after the old one was ripped to shreds when Midland Circle went down. Matt didn’t want to wait and had been out on the streets several weeks now in what amounted to minimally padded workout clothes. Claire only tolerated it because he had company most of that time. Company he was starting to regret not calling before slipping through the window back up on the third. And now he couldn’t find a window on the second.

Another door opened, this time right in front of him. _Shit._

He crouched, about to take a lunge at the person coming out, grab them and- _Wait._

He knew that presence, that scent, and heartbeat. He could describe every little detail at length and sum it all up in a single name. He’d know it anywhere.

 _Foggy?_ Matt froze, back going straight and open hands floating awkwardly at shoulder level like he hadn’t just been clenching hard fists a second ago.

Foggy turned and literally jumped in surprise. “Holy shi- What are you doing here?” Foggy clutched his bag to his chest and forced his volume down, hissing at him.

“What are-?” Matt echoed before he could get his thoughts in order, gaping. Very helpful. _Right, guards!_

“Shit! C-Come on! Just-” Foggy looked up and down the hall as he yanked Matt closer by the arm, and then back through the doorway he had emerged from, slamming the door closed behind them. Matt found himself in a small room, empty room save for a couple pieces of furniture- something like a couch or bed and a small shelf, more soundproofed walls with no windows, air heavy with the scent of detergent, air freshener, and…

Foggy locked the door behind him and took a deep breath, then turned to Matt. “Okay. What the hell does Daredevil want at a sex club for the city’s elite?”

Matt frowned, brow rubbing against the fabric of his mask. “Sex club?” It did smell faintly like sex in there the way a hotel room might. His lip curled at the words, considering how badly they paired with the reason he was there. “There’s a human trafficking operation on the top floor. Local girls are getting kidnapped and sent overseas as mail order brides. I came to confirm if there are hostages. The girls we already rescued said at least two more were being kept somewhere and this building was their best guess.”

Foggy dragged his hands down his face, muffling his voice for a second. “Shit. I knew this place might be trouble but not on that level! I should have left this to one of the firm PIs.”

“Fog, security is on my tail. I didn’t hear any cameras in the halls but they could come knocking any second. Do they know you’re here- are you- why are you here?” Matt asked, frowning deeper.

“It’s not that!” Foggy was quick to clarify. “Shouldn’t be cameras anywhere but the club front door- that’s why I’m here. A client came into the firm asking for Hogarth but she was out for the day so I helped them. Let’s just say there might theoretically be candid photos of someone at this club doing kinky shit.” He lifted something, a bag Matt realized, hanging from his arm and let it plop on the floor with a small thump. “I thought I’d pose as one of the rich and horny and visit the theoretical backdrop of said photos to scan for hidden cameras- easy enough- but either the scanner isn’t working or they’ve been removed. You don’t hear any do you?”

Matt turned his head one way then the other. “No… I’m guessing they didn’t say anything that could be linked to the trafficking?”

“Attorney-client privilege, you know that. But no. Nothing. All I know is that this is The Place if you want to partake in naughty fantasies at a huge price markup. It’s a shame you’re stuck in those pajamas, your horny suit would have been perfect camouflage for this scene.”

Before Matt could retort a doorbell sound went off, making them both jump this time.  
“Crap,” Foggy groaned, “That’s how they let people know they want the door opened! They have a master key if nobody answers for too long.”

Matt hurried to grab the bag from the floor and shoved it back in Foggy’s arms, pointing to the corner of the room. “Get back. If anyone asks, I forced you to let me in here.”

Matt rolled each stiff shoulder as he approached the door. He couldn’t quite hear or feel what was going on past base sounds, some of it was the club music but others matched vibrations in the walls and floors. He put his ear and a hand to the cool painted surface of the door, the fabric of the mask pressing into his cheek.

Foggy interrupted his thoughts, “They could have all of their bouncers lined up outside the door! Come on!” Foggy dropped the bag onto the bed standing in the center of the room. “Get under the bed and hide, I’ll cover for you!”

“You don’t think they’ll check under the bed?” Matt hissed. Movement vibrated outside from the floor up and down the hall, pausing when the wall vibrated at a beat, knocking. The guards must have been going door to door looking for him.

“You don’t know!” Foggy hissed back.

“Where else would someone hide in this room?”

Foggy wracked his brain for a rebuttal and waved his hands in a panic. The room was nearly bare aside from the bed and the decorative lights in the ceiling. Matt closed his eyes as he strained to listen to the guards. Behind him, Foggy started pacing between the bed and back corner, frustrated half-curses under his breath. Then he went very still.

“Strip.”

“What?” Matt swore he misheard but Foggy had returned to the bedside to unzip the bag and Matt could hear him waving at him to move it. Matt turned to frown at him again.

Foggy repeated himself, firmer this time. “Strip. Now. They’re looking for Daredevil. So let's hide the mask.”

A dozen worries swarmed Matt’s head concerning a lack of civilian clothes and possible bag checks. Also a different but very important hesitation, one that he _really_ didn't have time to deal with on the run.

Security rang the doorbell again, forcing him from his dumbfounded pause. The idea was so crazy it just might work. Matt cursed and pulled the mask off his head, tossing it to Foggy. His hair went wild with static and shocked him as he pulled the shirt over his head while Foggy made room in the bag for the pads from his arms and legs. The doorbell rang again as Foggy tugged Matt’s new boots unceremoniously from his feet while Matt unwound the wraps from his wrists. Foggy shoveled it all into the bag and zipped it the second the black pants were packed in on top of it all, leaving Matt standing wild-haired and still in disbelief, wearing nothing but his underwear.

“Get in bed or something- we’ve gotta make it believable!” Foggy tossed the bag aside on the floor and turned to the door as someone outside started knocking on it. “Oh for- Occupied!” he yelled, before ripping back the bed sheets and waving frantically at Matt to climb in. “Pretend you’re my hot trophy husband!”

Matt’s face wrinkled up as he climbed in bed, questioning how clean the sheets truly were, but Foggy’s instructions got a breathless chuckle out of him, and then another as Foggy leaned over to tuck him in, making sure the sheets covered Matt’s bruised knees as he grumbled, "The lucky bastard who beat out my countless other suitors.”

“The luckiest,” Matt agreed, words coming out in a tone far warmer than necessary.

“Damn right.” Foggy huffed and turned to go to the door.

Getting tucked in probably should have felt more unnatural than it did but it had been him lying in bed and Foggy fussing close by a lot in the past few months. Claire and Karen came by often to talk and check his wounds, sometimes Luke showed up along with Claire and stood in the kitchen sipping tea. Colleen had stopped Danny more than once in front of the building to remind him not to slip up and talk about where the medicine or gift he brought along originated or it would give away how expensive it was. Jessica showed up when she claimed she needed a change of scenery or was _bored to hell_. However, it was Foggy who came the most often and stayed the longest out of them all.

Quick flashes of sensory experiences crossed his mind. The memory of Foggy’s warmth at his bedside, salty tears and shaky voices, the weight of his hand in his letting him know he was there, the gentle embrace Foggy had leaned over him to give while Matt laid there apologizing and struggling to speak. Later the strong and steady arm that helped him stand again for the first time three months ago.

The stab of hope that hit him during the moment they shared a week back, as Foggy headed out to go off to work at Hogarth's firm, and Matt was leaning in the door frame promising to let Danny throw the first punch during “vigilante time.” Foggy had said, _“I can’t have my partner hogging all the crime busting glory.”_

Matt was taken aback. _“We’re still partners?”_

Foggy stepped back into the doorway, the drumbeat of his heart less than a foot away. _“Yeah. Matt, I- I don’t know how much you remember from when you first woke up but… All that heavy emotional stuff I said about wanting you back and being better with you… It was true.”_ Foggy’s heart picked up speed and Matt’s own pulse danced right along. He knew then they were both hoping. _“As you already know I’m pissed you nearly died, and I hate seeing you hurt, but… I’ve gained some… perspective. You’ll always matter to me, Matt. I know you’re sorry about what happened and I hope that even after everything we said that hurt each other… You can... That you know you can trust me too. Because I sure as hell don’t plan on going anywhere.”_

Matt had no words. He pulled Foggy into a hug, tighter than intended, trying not to grimace and get too emotional or Foggy would notice and get distracted, and he needed to get to work on time, and... Foggy’s hair was shorter but it still tickled at the side of his face, his suit was a softer more expensive material but it smelled like coffee, the city, and the same Foggy who had fallen asleep next to him about the instant they stepped foot in their dorm after completing finals. They stayed there, embraced, until footsteps started thumping up the stairs from the floor below and Foggy pat him on the shoulder before excusing himself and heading out.

Matt hated himself a little for it but he had gone back to that moment countless times since, so many times he could drum up the feeling of relief, of honest joy and affection, at the simple thought of Foggy standing in that doorway.

Before he could reflect deeply on his memories the door clicked open and a deep woman’s voice was there calling through the crack Foggy was peeking out through. “Excuse me. Sorry!”

Foggy gave a theatrical groan of disgust. “What’s with all the ringing? We were just getting settled in!” The woman at the door launched into an apology. A second person out in the hallway came to a stop next to the woman, Matt got a whiff of spicy cologne and realized it was one of the guards he had punched before running downstairs.

Foggy shook his head. “No. Sorry isn’t going to cut it! I was told your club guarantees client privacy. That should include getting a full half hour or more uninterrupted by room service my husband and I didn’t call for.”

“It was an emergency, I promise you it won’t happen again.”

“Is the building on fire? There a gas leak? Aliens again?” Foggy suggested. Matt snorted and held in a laugh.

“No but security needs to check inside the room, it will only take a second- Ah!” The guard decided to take matters into his own hands while the woman was mid sentence, pushing past her to step into the room and look around. Matt yanked the covers up toward his chin and gave his best wide-eyed and worried expression for good measure.

Foggy was on the guard’s tail in a split second, whirling around and stomping right after him. “Excuse me! Now you want to peep on my husband while he’s naked?” The guard ignored him and bent to look under the bed. _No masked man there._ Foggy kept on him, “What kind of establishment is this? I’m a lawyer so you know, I will serve you papers if you don’t show some respect!”

Foggy turned back to the lady at the doorway, pointing a disapproving finger at the offending guard, “That’s it! I want to talk to whoever is in charge here!”

“I understand, and I can arrange that,” the woman tried to reassure him, fumbling with something that Matt guessed was either a plastic clipboard or tablet in her arms. The guard shook his head at her as he pushed past her through the door and exited. She gave a sharp huff, unmistakable to Matt’s ears. “...Again I’m so sorry. The owner is upstairs overseeing an event. I will let him know about the situation and be right back.” She backed out of the doorway and didn’t bother waiting until Foggy had closed the door all the way to turn on the guard and scold him for his actions.

“That’s what they get for interrupting an attorney,” Foggy said once the door was shut.

“Almost feel bad for her.” Matt laughed. “Making the most of your theater camp talents?”

“I nearly broke character seeing your face while the guard searched around the bed. You looked less like someone interrupted your soiree and more like an eight year old waiting for the latest internet rumor monster to creep out from under your bed.”

“What? _…What?”_ Matt scoffed as Foggy described it to him. “They said there was a reason for security to check the room- that’s frightening.”

“Yes, as the married couple sharing a passionate night in each other’s arms, we’d be too distracted by each other to notice the grown man in black running in here to hide under the bed.”

“I think your performance just now confirms you can be a huge distraction.” Matt grinned. It was Foggy’s turn to scoff. “And I _am_ blind.” Foggy snorted and shook his head, Matt knew he was smiling though.

“Anyway,” Foggy said, “I don’t think we’re lucky enough that the owner is going to come down here with one of those kidnapped girls in tow. I’m thinking either you put on my blazer and we get the hell out of here… or we demand one of the VIP rooms upstairs I was told about and get closer to your target.”

Matt wet his lips and thought for a moment. The guards weren’t especially threatening opponents if he could disarm them, the real trick was spreading them out instead of taking on five or six at once, and it was integral he got an answer about the hostages before they might be moved. The staff would be looking for the masked man and using Foggy for a cover had worked so far.

“…You have Jones’s number?”

“Buddy, I have the whole gang on speed dial. We might start a book club. They forbid phone usage in the halls and large gatherings but private rooms are free reign for the clients.”

Matt nodded. “Keep your phone handy. Once I have confirmation, call the police and then call her.” He moved to get out of the bed, pausing as his feet hit the floor. “…Is this bed shaped like a heart?”

Foggy laughed. “Only the most comfortable, most expensive heart for my husband. FYI the sheets are white instead of the same old cliché red. The whole room is a classy white and blue kind of palette. I bet they think we came here to relive our honeymoon.”

“Heart beds are somehow more romantic?”

“You sound like you have doubts Matthew.”

Matt laughed and stood, stretching his arms and back. “If we’re reliving our honeymoon does that imply there was a heart shaped bed involved then?”

“Obviously! We are if anything romantics at heart, it’s one of the countless reasons we make such a successful and happy couple. Heart beds are at the peak of romantic furniture,” Foggy said with a nod.

“All this trouble to get a heart shaped bed and yet no candles, no flowers, Mr. Nelson?” Matt raised a brow.

“That stuff’s at home, clearly. I mean there was definitely an amazing dinner earlier and after this at home there’s a seductive mixtape waiting to be played while you follow the trail of rose petals to the bedroom! -If you like that stuff, do you like that stuff?” Foggy asked. He shook his head, backtracking, “I mean- does it bother your finely tuned receptors?”

Matt smiled softer. “Candles don’t do much for me, it’s more for the other person. Flowers… some smell better than others. It’s the thought that counts though, I wouldn’t turn them down.” He nodded. “I’d take a bouquet over a scented candle- scented candles are…” His face wrinkled.

Foggy laughed. “I’m with you, what’s the point of making the place smell like spiced pumpkin pie if you can’t eat it? Man I’m sorry for all the Christmases you’ve spent with Mom’s pine tree candles.”

“No. I wouldn’t have it any other way. Still smelled better than the dorm did on hot days.”

“I hate to ask.” Foggy shook his head. The doorbell chimed, making Foggy curse and grumble as he turned to answer the door. “God that freaking bell.”

The same woman had returned. “Thank you for waiting. Mr. Edwards said he’d be happy to speak with you upstairs. Here, I have a robe for your husband to wear if you don’t want to redress. You’re welcome to keep it, it’s on the club.”

A lucky development. Foggy passed the robe on to Matt with a “Here Babe.” Matt recognized the feeling of silk immediately. The robe smelled faintly like sandalwood and still had the price tags on it. High class club indeed. Once he finished tying the sash he took the arm Foggy offered. Foggy slung the bag over his other shoulder and they followed the woman out of the room and down the hall to the elevator.

They were silent during the ride up until the doors opened again and Foggy leaned in to murmur to him, “Fourth floor.” They were back in the hallway he hadn’t been able to pass.


End file.
